


Friends Talk to Each Other About the Repercussions of Murder, Kind Of

by prepare_to_die_obviously



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: I'm very excited for the next episode, Light Angst, M/M, hallusination oswald, these boys need to kiss and make up, this is definatly not what's going to happen but I'm a sucker for a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10974729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare_to_die_obviously/pseuds/prepare_to_die_obviously
Summary: Slayer of regretsold and new,sought by many,found by few.What am I?





	Friends Talk to Each Other About the Repercussions of Murder, Kind Of

'Oswald? You're still alive?'

 

Time seemed to warp in here, Ed noted. It could have been hours, or minutes since his world had completely shattered around him.

Since Ed's initial question, neither men had spoken a word. His mind was racing with thoughts, theories and possibilities, tripping over each other trying to take centre stage. Oswald was still standing, eyes locked to Ed's face.

'Well! Isn't this a turn of events.' A familiar voice whispered in his ear gleefully. Oswald, bullet wound still oozing, and dripping onto the concrete floor.  
'Do you think he's real? Are you still deciding?' He continued tauntingly.  
Ed narrowed his eyes, but refused to respond.

Edward had seen The Penguin angry. He'd seen him loose control and beat people to death, shoot them, shaking and rabid, eyes bulging and vains straining against his pale skin.  
This was a different kind of rage. He was silent and still, and there was something behind his eyes that flowed deeper. Ed didn't like it at all. 

'"killing you killed a part of me", isn't that what you said?' Dead Oswald grinned, the puddle of water around him growing. Ed shifted slightly to avoid getting wet, before realising how stupid that was.  
Oswald appeared on his other side, the waft of blood and salt water almost making Ed gag.  
'I mean, obviously you blew it. But, he might get a kick out of knowing that under all your theatrics-' 

'STOP.' 

Ed's fists were curled into tight balls, arms crossed over his chest. Fuck. 

The real Oswald narrowed his eyes. Ed tried not to shake. Dead Oswald stepped backwards into nothingness. 

'You shot me.' Oswald whispered, his eyes glinting with something Ed couldn't quite read. 'Honestly, given my track record you shouldn't be surprised I'm here.' 

Ed huffed. Why was it the people he loved always came back to haunt him in one way or another?

'How am I supposed to know this isn't a trick?' Ed steeled himself against his racing mind. This is something he could focus on. A puzzle. A riddle. 

'You're not him. You could be the face swapper, that man who can mould his features and mimick voices. You could be a clone, a hologram, a twin!' With each guess Ed's voice grew more desperate. 

Oswald sighed. 

Ed rubbed his forehead and sat down on the concrete floor. 'You're just another hallucination aren't you.' Oswald's eyes flickered as Ed continued, now looking at the floor.  
'Honestly, I'm used to you being rather more flamboyant, no wonder this is so unsettling. Did the Court drug me? Or am I just spitting apart again...' 

Oswald wrinkled his nose. Splitting apart. What an interesting turn of phrase. He wondered if Ed- no.  
He Absolutely was not going to WORRY about this man. He didn't care if Ed was ~okay~ or not, don't be ridiculous. The man murdered him!  
Or tried his very best at least. His forgiveness could only stretch so far, and Nygma had reached its limit. 

He couldn't give his heart to a man who had shot him in the gut. 

Even if he did look like he was falling apart from confusion and regret.  
Nope. 

'Slayer of regrets  
old and new,  
sought by many,  
found by few.

what am I?' 

Ed had spoken up again, still sitting on the floor. Unbeknownst to the real Oswald, the dead Oswald was sitting to his left again. Hand propping up chin, and looking to all the world as if he had somewhere better to be. 

Both Oswalds rolled their eyes.  
'A riddle. Please, spare me.' groaned the real Oswald sarcastically.  
'Mmm, I agree with him. That really isn't the way to win him back.' Dead Oswald chimed in. 

Ed's eyes were determined as he stood, stumbling to his feet. He grasped the bars between them to steady himself. 

'Oswald, on the off chance that you are indeed you, and real. I need you to know... I harbour no ill will towards you regarding the death of Isabella. Anymore. 

'I have had a long time to think about the way events unfolded, in this prison, and also directly after your... well, your absence. It become quite clear that your death effected me far more negatively than hers did, which was surprising. And uncomfortable. And confusing.' Ed was frowning and pacing up and down his small cage now, almost as if he was explaining this to himself as much as to Oswald.

'Anyway, what I mean to say is, I don't regret my actions. You are the first friend that I have ever made. You mean the world to me. And you betrayed me. I reacted violently, and I'm not sorry. You deserved that.'

Oswald's heart skipped a beat. present tense. Are, not were. Mean, not meant. He mentally shook himself for this involuntary emotional response, and re-clicked into revenge mode. 

'But I am glad that you survived. I forgive you. I still find myself painfully nostalgic about our weeks in office together. Or even our correspondences during my time at Arkham!' He sighed, and looked directly onto Oswald's eyes. 

'You... we're right. I do need you.  
Despite everything we've both done to each other, I hope that you can forgive me.' 

 

Oswald bristled and prepared himself to fully loose his temper. flailing arms, shaking legs, flying spit. The whole deal. But... it wouldn't come. He... was calm? There was no rage bubbling to the surface, no blinding anger or murderous intent.  
He was just tired. 

Oswald repeated back the riddle.

'Slayer of regrets  
old and new,  
sought by many,  
found by few.

Redemption.' 

Ee stopped pacing, and grabbed the bars again, eyes wide and searching.

'You've not earned it yet, Riddler...

'But, helping an old friend break out of this dank depressing excuse of a prison might just be the place to start.'


End file.
